10 Things That Doctor Owen Harper Does Every Day
by TwistOfLemon
Summary: 1 - He Wakes Up. Owen woke up that morning with a groan. Another day, another dollar… and another bloody hangover. A oneshot, very vague Tosh/Owen, rated for language. Fragments spoilers.


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Ten Things That [Doctor] Owen Harper Does Every Day

* * *

1 – He Wakes Up

_(This rather vital part of his day is usually followed by a five to ten minute pondering as to why he is still bothering with this life whilst still lying in bed. After this, he will rise from his bedchambers to shower and groom himself. Waking up can take a few minutes to an hour, depending on the circumstances.)_

[6:48 AM]

Owen woke up that morning with a groan. Another day, another dollar… and another fucking hangover.

He rubbed his face with his hands, sighing, and was very tempted to roll back over and just fall asleep. But he knew he couldn't. Rising from beneath the covers, he shook himself and headed off to the shower.

He'd discovered from past experience that quick showers really were the best things to get rid of hangovers. The big breakfast had never helped him, exercise just made him feel worse, baking soda tasted disgusting, Jack wouldn't let him use their IVs. And, as a doctor, he'd never even bothered trying the hangover 'cures' that were regularly advertised on Cardiff television.

He washed himself thoroughly, dried, moisturised, brushed his teeth and hair, dressed and ate. Ready for another day, and looking fabulous.

* * *

2 – He Goes To Work

_(Though not considered enjoyable to most, it would be fair to say that this stage in the day is, to him, just as vital as waking. A man that lives for his work, he is employed as medic for Torchwood Three, based in Cardiff. He generally travels to work via public transport at varying times in the morning.)_

[7:13 AM]

He hailed the wrong bus that morning. The 316 went past his stop and he thought it was his. He should have known; it was too early for the bus he normally caught.

There was no one else at the bus stop with him. It was up to him to explain it to the driver.

"Sorry, mate – thought you were the 306." he shrugged. The bus driver, an overweight and sweaty man with incredibly crooked teeth, looked rather peeved. He muttered something in Welsh under his breath, and drove the bus away.

"Up your sodding arse." Owen muttered, hardly in the mood to face irritable bus drivers. He didn't feel as sore as he did when he'd woken up, but he had a throbbing headache. And it was a freezing February morning; he didn't much like the cold.

He clucked his tongue between his teeth impatiently, and had to wait for another six minutes until the 306 did show up.

* * *

3 – He Has A Mug Of Coffee

_(Made by colleague Ianto Jones, he is a firm believer that coffee is one of the few things that gets him through the day and, indeed, life. His first sip of coffee on an average day would usually be as soon as he gets into work. This may be followed by one or more coffees later in the day.)_

[8:26 AM]

"Owen! Nice of you to join us!" Jack called, as the entrance to the hub rolled open and Owen strode through.

"Yeah, sorry I'm late." was Owen's lazy reply. "Bus driver was a right tosser."

"Aren't they all?" Gwen laughed. Jack grinned. He took a bite of the bagel in his hand.

"Left some files on your desk," he said, "Stuff for you to cut, dissect, inject; whatever takes your fancy."

"Lucky me."

"Oh, yeah." Came Ianto's reply – Owen couldn't quite tell if it was sarcastic or not. Owen raised his eyebrows, and Ianto raised his in a neutral response. Slightly aggravated, Owen was about to leave when Ianto held out a steaming mug. Perfect.

"Thanks, mate." he said. Not that he would normally bother with a thankyou, but the coffee was so good.

And he turned toward the autopsy room gloomily, hoping that an alien sighting would come along and make the day more interesting.

* * *

4 – He Puts On His Doctor's Coat

_(A plain white doctor's coat with a collection of colourful badges on the collar, he refuses to work without it on. Perhaps not an entirely necessary precaution to take – he gets messy enough even with it on – it may be perceived as a simple ceremonious exercise. In reality, of course, the putting on of the coat makes him feel important enough to do the job that he does, and do it well.)_

[8:30 AM]

He was quite distracted as he shuffled through the files. He wasn't really in the mood to work hard, something humanoid would be ideal. He picked a corpse to examine, and selected some tools to use. Simply out of habit, he put his coat on. He strongly doubted that he needed it at all, it was nice to wear.

Because he loved his coat, he really did. It was comfortable and lightweight, the material was soft. It had no stains – Ianto had managed to get them all out, amazingly – and it fit easily around his body. But more than anything, he liked the feeling he had whilst he wore the coat. While wearing it, he felt confident and strong. It was his reason for being there, in Torchwood Three, it was his reason for being alive. The coat was his. He was a doctor.

With a sigh of satisfaction, he got down to work.

* * *

5 – He Irritates One Or More Of The Members Of His Team

_(Whether intentionally or by accident, this is bound to happen at some point during the day. His rather sarcastic and cynical personality make it almost impossible for him not to clash with a team member that hasn't had their coffee, stayed up too late the night previously or isn't having the best week. The ramifications of this can change from day to day and person to person; meaning where sometimes the irritation goes ignored, other times he receives a well-deserved sharp comeback.)_

[3:49 PM]

Gwen's head poked above the Autopsy Room in the mid-afternoon – her hair swung over her shoulders as she looked down at him and her face was inquisitive.

"Owen, have you seen the file tracking the Blowfish while Jack was away?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

Owen looked up at her for the first time.

"Yes, I have seen it," he said, voice dripping with sarcasm, "I was lying the first time."

"Oh, alright, be a wanker. I was only asking."

"And I was only telling. Now get away, sweet cheeks, let me do some real work."

* * *

6 – He Works In The Autopsy Room

_(As a trained medical professional, he will spend most of his time in the Torchwood Hub working in the Autopsy Room. He practically views the room as his territory, and the rest of the team are all very aware not to stray there without being prepared for a sarcastic remark thrown in their direction. It is not too unusual for the entire team to gather there as he carries out an examination, as long as it is relevant to an investigation of which the entire team is a part of. Often, the bodies on his operating bench are not human, and occasionally not even humanoid. Rarely is the specimen he is examining alive.)_

[2:13 PM]

His work had been without difficulty or even too much interest throughout the day. He had worked his way through three cadavers, understanding how they worked almost entirely.

Now he was filling in paperwork. The worst part of the job, the paperwork. What did it matter, anyway? Who needed to read the paperwork but Jack? Even then, couldn't he just _tell_ Jack?

His desk in the Autopsy Room was rather messy. It was filled with paperwork, pens, doodles, notes, diagrams, his 'To Do' pile from Jack. The computer was open to his email inbox, which was empty except for a few reminders from Ianto that he'd been consciously ignoring.

The paperwork was dull, even when about a new species he'd never encountered before as this one was. The part he liked was the exploratory surgeries, the slicing and the discovering, the hasty note taking as different coloured blood spewed out, or organ function was discovered. But to even do the surgery, Owen had to fill in paperwork.

With a sigh, he got on with it. When the writing was done, the slicing could begin.

* * *

7 – He Eats Take Out With The Team

_(A daily ritual for everyone in Torchwood Three. The term 'take out' can refer to any number of food, but the two most common are pizza and Chinese. The meals, though on occasion whilst out, will generally take place in the Boardroom. )_

[12:36 PM]

It had been a rather quiet morning in Torchwood Three, so when Ianto's call of 'pizza' rang out, echoing, through the hub, everyone was quick to discard their work for some food. Owen quickly took off his coat and gloves, washed up and headed to the Boardroom.

By the time he got there, the rest of the team were already seated. Jack was talking – surprise, surprise.

"So I get the call, grab a cab, start chasing after this guy…" Jack was saying, laughing. Owen looked around for a seat as Jack spoke; there were plenty of vacant ones at the other end of the table, but he felt like being a part of the conversation today. He eventually decided on a seat between Tosh and Ianto.

Jack's story was finished. Everyone was laughing at the punch line. Owen hadn't heard most of the story and didn't really understand, but that was okay.

Because he was among them. His team were happy, laughing, and he was laughing with them. And, somehow, there was that feel that they were all in this together. They would all make it out alive. They all really loved their jobs and loved their place and loved each other.

And it was good.

* * *

8 – He Is Reminded Of Katie

_(Having once been engaged and still very much in love with her, he spends a lot of his time thinking about her. He has learned to accept that Katie is gone and that there is nothing he can do about it, but this does nothing to lessen the loss and pain that he does feel rather often in relation to her.)_

[8:07 AM]

The air was icy cold as Owen made his way over to the Millennium Centre, which loomed almost pointedly just up ahead. He was really not in the mood to be cold, he didn't like to be cold. God knew why he moved to bloody Cardiff.

Well, he knew why he'd moved to Cardiff. It had been with that job offer… just few years back; so much had happened since then.

He remembered getting the phone call; 'bigger offices, better equipment, less working hour and more pay' was their basic proposal. It had been an offer too good to refuse, and so he and Katie had up and left London to head for Wales.

He had a very clear memory of the day he'd told Katie about the offer. He'd been terrified that she'd be unhappy – he'd known how much she'd loved London – but she'd been quite the opposite. Completely delighted, Katie had smiled and hugged and kissed him, and he'd done the same, and they'd discussed what it would be like to live in _Wales_ of all places.

"Not a dream destination," he'd said.

"We'll make it one." Katie had replied.

He sighed. It was going to be a long day.

* * *

9 – He Has An Alcoholic Beverage

_(Given that this part of his day is undertaken with great enthusiasm, 'at least one' might be a more appropriate way of phrasing this. Though not an alcoholic, he is rather dependant on the stuff; believing that it is one of the few things that can help him through the things he's seen and done. He will often go to a pub or a nightclub to undertake the drinking, though on occasion he will do so at his place of residence.)_

[9:43 PM]

He didn't feel like being around crowds that night. The music in the clubs would be too loud, the crowds too… conspicuous. So he'd headed home after work. This was an unusual occurrence, he wasn't often home before the sun had set.

He'd gone about making his dinner in silence, listening to the traffic noise below. He'd eaten it in silence, too, looking to the world outside his apartment, gazing upon the amazing view that he paid so much to rarely see.

And then there had been nothing to do. He sat on the couch with a glass of scotch and he thought. And he thought, and he thought, and he drank.

Because he'd forgotten. How had he forgotten? It was right sad, that was. Bloody depressing.

Smiling wryly at himself, he sighed, and poured out another drink.

* * *

10 – He Does Something Quite Surprising

_(Though often someone considered very predictable by everyone who knows him, he is not so. He will surprise someone at least once a day, generally someone that knows him well. He secretly prides himself in this surprising nature of his, believing that it keeps people entertained and interested.)_

[8:28 AM]

"Morning, Owen!" Tosh called cheerily across at him, as he strolled past her desk. He mumbled something in response and walked straight past her desk, not really in the mood to chat.

But she was persistent; as he walked down to the autopsy room and she followed silently, he wouldn't have noticed if it weren't for the clacking of her boots on the floor behind him. He was determined to ignore her. Clucking his tongue, he shuffled through the files that Jack had left on his desk – they were by the computer – and tried to work out what he was supposed to be doing first.

Tosh was still there, waiting quietly behind him. Irritated, he swung around to face her. She was smiling in an oddly innocent sort of a way, and the 'bugger off' that had been forming on his lips melted away sheepishly. She raised her eyebrows expectantly, and he wondered what to say.

"What do you want, Tosh?" he decided on eventually. "Got plenty to cut open today. If what we were doing wasn't out of the government I'd bloody report Jack for overworking us…"

He didn't mean it, of course. He loved work with all his heart. They all did.

"Oh, it's nothing really." Tosh smiled again, shaking her head. "I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday."

Owen blinked. Was it the fourteenth?

There was silence, except for the buzzing of machines and the vague echo of one of Jack's bizarre anecdotes upstairs. Very obviously awkward, Owen pulled his face into a smile back at Tosh. Tosh handed him a pristinely wrapped present with a card, and then sidled off back up the stairs. Owen watched her go, shaking his head and muttering something to himself.

Perhaps it was his turn to be surprised.


End file.
